


Waltzing alone

by Atrafa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Assasins R Us, Bucky is snarky, Loki is going to get therapy if thor has anything to say, More tags as they come, Multi, Thor is morally grey, and it shows, bucky and his love of a good plum, bucky likes science and math, bucky s tired, bucky wants his arm repaired its not that hard, clint is the defination of disater Bi, doesnt really like other modren food tho, fix it mcu, fuck hydra, fucking write like it, gratuitous use of langauge and my love of language, hydra gets whats coming to them, loki needs a therpast, nats got more issues than aliases, steve is a yenta at heart, steve loves pb, steve types like he knows how to use tech, the red room's A+ parenting, thor is a PRINCE of a WARRIOR CULTURE, um fuck cannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-23 03:39:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atrafa/pseuds/Atrafa
Summary: the winter solider is bucky barnes, and their trying to reconcile theirself, and taking vengence on hydra.steve is drowning in himself and the memories he has.the post CAWS no one asked for.





	1. I Solider/I Steve

**Author's Note:**

> ask me about my infinty war feeelings :)

  
  


**KASTORIA, DAWN**

 

             The voices’ vibrations against the hollowed warehouse allowed Them to find and overhear the whole conversion.

             “She was important, to both my research and our goal.” said a small man. He was fat, and had small squinty eyes. His companion was a man He had seen before.  _ Deathlok,  _ one of the many unwilling soldiers of H.Y.D.R.A. 

            “She shot herself, Dr. Agάpi.” His was voice low and steady, but to their ears it was a lie and they were  well acquainted with assets lying, it had once or twice.

             “You were supposed to make sure she survived!” the doctor shouted at deathlok. They  lined up the shot.

_                                                                                                                          Splat. _

             The doctor's brain and skull covered the floor. Deathlok looked up and around his eyes, purposely avoiding where It was perched. He cocked his head, nodded in acknowledgment, and left.

 

* * *

**LONDON; 4 HOURS LATER**

 

              Steve was in London with Sam. The last time he’d been there in 1945, he had been with… _ them.  _ His best friends, his lovers. One was slowly dying of Alzheimer's, and the other was sniping his way across the world destroying H.Y.D.R.A. one snipe at a time.

               He looked over the small apartment Thor called base. The god’s tiny scientist and  _ Intern  _ were discussing the pros and cons of moving, while Sam was lifting boxes of groceries with the thunder god.

              “You know, that if you move Stark will pay everyone and everything?” Steve said nonchalantly. The scientist, Jane? Looked shocked.

               “Everything?” The intern marveled …. He couldn’t remember the Intern’s name. Del? Something with a D, he thought.

                 “Darcy!” Jane shrieked. Aww so the- Darcy.  Thor chuckled a deep sound “Ah my dear Shield-Sister, your concern is amusing.” Darcy raised an eyebrow at Thor in a threatening manner. He backed away with his hands up. Steve wasn’t feeling nice-nice buddy-buddy, and Sam was gesturing a slash against his throat and shaking his head toward Steve. 

             “If not, I can just tell Stark no.” He offered and Darcy looked back at him. 

          “No.” Darcy said sternly, giving her final answer. Steve backed down. Sam seemed relieved Darcy hadn’t done or at least, that's what Steve got.

              Jane looked around. “How long do we have?”

            Steve stretched out his neck.” Ummmm I think Stark Has it…. Or likely Miz. Potts.”

           “Pepper will have it over within a week.” Sam had wisely put in.

        Darcy looked at him it was unnerving, her stare somewhere between blatant ogling and judgment. Not that the ogling was new, Both B.C.A. and P.C.A., before it was in a how-are-you-still-alive-oh-my-god-you-punk look from Buck, as well as ogling of a provacative  nature. Now everyone wanted a piece of his quote-unquote delicious body, but Darcy’s  stare also had a glint. A glint in her eye that said I-Know-The-Truth-Rogers, like the one his mother gave after he denied all the fights he was in. It made him a little nervous. She turned to  Sam.

         “So Ducky, How’s Star- Sorry ‘Avengers’ facility?” 

          “It’s Falcon, Not, ‘Ducky.” It was not it exactly a sore point, however it was a point of annoyance for the newest bird-coded Avenger… Steve wasn’t sure why though it was funny

  
  


* * *

**THREE DAYS LATER**

 

         Steve was punching the bag harder than he should. Stark had made punching bags almost capable of keeping up with his anger and aggression.  _ Almost  _ was the key word. Almost. It burst as they all did, the 

                “So, Cap, you broke another one.” Stark said. Steve rolled his eyes. He hated Stark’s nonchalant attitude, though he could stand the man a good deal of the time… but not after the nightmares that plagued him worse than the asthma of his youth. B.C.A. God how Steve missed it. Missed being wrapped up in Bucky. Wrapped up in the brick and antiquity of New York City. 

             “Not now Stark.”

        “You Only call me that when something bad's happened, Cap.” He looked concerned for the twenty-five-going-on-ninety-five year old. He knew Peggy Carter’s alzheimer's’ was killing Steve just as bad if not worse than it was Tony. Steve acted like he was fine. Steve was lying. That, Tony thought, was the most shocking. That Captain America had lied.  

            Steve looked at Tony. He sighed, knowing Tony wouldn’t let it go “Have you read them?” Steve's voice had a Brooklyn burr to it. The burr tended to become more prominent whenever Steve was tired and upset. Something that lingered from childhood.

          “No.” Tony walked to the bench, sat down and started fidgeting with his hands,” Steve, I-I’m not the brave you are. I couldn’t read that. Even if it was Pepper, Rhodey, Happy or- at one point Stane who went through that.”

           “He killed Howard. Before you say anything, There's no way he killed Howard of his own will. Tony, he was one of us. Bucky said that the commandos were his brothers, and he treated them as such. He punched out a lieutenant that said Howard was just a Civ. He almost ripped out his throat- the lieutenant. If Buck is himself again, then It would kill him. To Buck the worst thing in the world was to betray family. Howard, Peggy, Dum-dum, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, His Ma, his sisters, me, we were family and he would’ve died before betraying us. “ Steve looks like he was going to cry.  

             “I am going to be Honest Steve. I don’t think he is worth this pain you are putting yourself through. I can’t. If I do, then I’ll blame myself- even more than I already do. I didn’t ready Barnes’ files. I read Worse ones. They detailed all the shit Obie was in. Steve, if you think it was bad that Barnes was forced to do.” He looked toward Steve guilt in his eyes.

“I helped fund it.”


	2. II Steve/IISolider/ I tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tony faces steve, steve is a friend they go to breakfast.  
> Bucky has a flashback, abd meets his favorite Ex-student.

CONTINUATION 

 

        Steve’s entire body language changed. He went from hunched over in pain and anger to ramrod straight. He whipped around. His voice was soft, but had a diamond edge to it. “What?”

      Tony sighed, “When Obadiah Stane was Chair of Stark Industries, He allocated funds to multiple projects, most of them for H.Y.D.R.A., even though at the time I thought they were for S.H.I.E.L.D. and other agencies that S.I. had contracts to. I unknowingly funded projects  many projects but the worst was ZIMA.” Tony took a breath, grounding himself, he looked tired, face downcast.

       Steve was shocked. Steve looked at Tony, his eyes making out details a regular human would miss.  Things that most people wouldn’t be able to see through the playboy’s steel wall. That man had a way of hiding things very well,  In the dimly lighted gym, shadows had enveloped him, giving his face a dark malevolent look.  He noticed bags under Tony’s eyes. Tony’s hair was disheveled and he looked sickly, probably due to not eaten in awhile.  Steve looked back at Tony. Tony was still avoiding eye contact. Say what you want but STeve knew when someone need some help.

      Tony flinched, as Steve slowly moved his hand to cup Tony’s jaw to make him meet his eyes. “I don’t blame you, Don't think Buck would either. Tony, Take a shower and bring your wallet. You are taking me to lunch.” Tony had still braced himself for a hit from the younger man, but was lucky that Steve hadn’t wanted to hit him, but Steve did wanted to annihilate H.Y.D.R.A. even more than before, H. Y.D.R.A.

     “Alright. I will.” he smiled weakly.

* * *

 

   NTOLTSÓ, GREECE 8 HOURS LATER      

 

   The recently freed Winter soldier sat at a cafe in Ntoltsó in  Kastoria. They looked at the view the beautiful cafe offered of the outside drizzle, and lost theirself to one of the \ Bucky’s memories of the last cafe They were at in 1945:

 

_It was Paris. The rain was falling fast and hard, as if the sky was trying to mourn the men lost in the war, as if  mocking the soldiers. A beautiful woman sat in front of him and she was soaked. Her wet hair was currently the color of burnt auburn, whilst her eyes mimicked the constancy of whiskey in sunlight. Her makeup was as flawless as one could make without a mirror, but with years of experience. Her army dress uniform iron and pressed to perfection, but damp in the french rain.  the only thing not up to code was the shredded stockings, hanging only by threads._

_“You know, Sergeant Barnes, that tea is meant for drinking? Not sulking in.” Her grin promised filthy words and thoughts to follow._

_“Well Agent_ _Carter, we can’t all be immaculate as you.” He attempted to smirk. The expression falling flat.., Bucky now had trobule with expression his emotions._

 

     The memory cut off as an equally attractive and dangerous woman sat in front of them. They are unsure of what the woman is here for. They.turn their attention to  the woman. Instead of the brunette of Agent Carter, they are seated in front of a red headed woman, A _Vdova._

 

     “Privet staryy drug” her accent tells she is from city of Irkutsk. While they were confused about a _lot_ of things, they knew the Chernaya Vdova were not from Irkutsk, or the surrounding area she, like all the others that were given to him to train, came from one of three different places; Yekaterinburg,  Stalingrad- Moscow now, and Saint Petersburg. They returned the greeting, the Vdova flagged down a waiter.

 

   “Coffee, please.” her voice moving from Russian to fluid Greek.

 

     “Are you going to make see the man on the bridge?” their voice was low and hoarse. They rarely used as a weapon didn't need their voice the asset thought. While  Barnes, alternatively, thought use of their voice would distract them.

 

    “You’ll see him when you’re ready.” she said confidently.

  


    “... Thank you, Vdova. Tell him we remember him and We\love him, but we must right both the wrongs We did, and the wrongs done to Us. Tell  “ they paused there for only a second before contining” Tony. We regret Maria and Howard’s death. ”

  


       “Tell him yourself Soldat.” She leaves the cafe.  They are alone. Alone once more, she left behind something that catches their eye. It’s a thumb drive. they update their to-do list.

       They need to get a laptop.

* * *

 

 

BACK IN NEW YORK, 30 MINUTES LATER

 

     After breakfast, Tony looked at Steve, _What are we doing now?_ He thought. Steve was dragging him somewhere he wasn’t sure. Steve had given him the  “Captain-America-Is-Disappointed-in-you” look when said he was going back to the tower to work. When that hadn’t worked, he begged Tony to come with him.

 

   “We need to talk Tony,” Steve states”

 

       “I would Steve, but I promised Pepper...” Steve nods emphatically. Tony, sometimes thinks he's got a crush on Pepper. Tony doesn’t judge, Steve’s got good taste. Between Peggy and Pepper…. He doesn’t want to think about it.

        “Yeah! Go,  Make her happy.” But other times, he’s sure that Steve’s got a crush on their relationship. Again,he doesn’t question the ninety-year old star-spangled-man-with-a-plan.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Privet staryy drug”. hello old friend  
> Chernaya Vdova black widow  
> I hella high key have feelings about natasha and her realtionships thatll be revealed next chapter, but if you got questions or just want to talk about hit me up in the comments, or on tumblr any betas, hit me up hella but like beware, my grammer is worse than a drunken 6 year old @times
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/atrafa


	3. Soldier III/ N****** I/ Thor A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bucky is trying to get good matience.  
> Nat tears budapest asunder for clint.  
> Thor ponders the long game for Asgard and its Vassal, Midgard for his lady loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter. Black panther, will feature either as a side story or main plot havent decide. watched infinty war, I have feelings about the battle of wakanda,, ask me about the

**SOMEWHERE IN ITALY THREE HOURS FROM NOW**

 

     They turned the thumb drive between the fingers of their remaining hand. They looked at the shivering H.Y.D.R.A. agent. The man had tried to get away, but the shot out knee made it a little harder than man thought. In their head Barnes preened. The soldier was not impressed. 

     “Toska Rzhavyye Semnadtsat' Rassvetom Pechi Devyat' Dobrokachestvennoy Vozvrashcheniya Domoy Odin gruzovoy vagon.” Barnes raises an eyebrow. 

     “Khorosho, Chto ne rabotayet, Tak kak ya snyal nashu ruku” Barnes says in response, as the Soldier is actually mentally going over information about the base they got the agent from.

“Wh-what? I-I don’t speak Russian.” Barnes rolls their eyes. How did H.Y.D.R.A. get anything done? Oh right, Torture.

“I said; Well that hasn't work since I took off our arm. Also, weren’t you one of my  _ techs _ … for the arm ?” the snide emphasis on tech, may have been petty, but frankly it was something they enjoyed. The ability to be petty, and  _ not  _ get electric therapy for a major plus.

“But your arm is right there. And no I wasn’t a technician for your arm“

So it is.” He snidely remarks.

“So I don’t understand.” the Winter Soldier glared at the dumb agent.. 

“We mean that,  can you fix it or not?” they pulled a gun out and pointed it at the agent’s head.

* * *

**NOT SURE, BUT THE ASSUMPTION IS BUDAPEST. BETWEEN THE LAST SCENES**

  
  


        Natasha turned into the old alleyway. She had been searching for Clint for the week. She knew that he had been deep undercover. And that he had been compromised with her blowing up of the files. He couldn’t die, not yet, possibly not ever. Clinton Francis Barton’s heart was not allowed to stop beating until she said. If he disobeyed her, she would bring him back to life and kill him again, Simple as that. She heard a low moan of pain from the dumpster.

      “Awww, band-aid, No.” her head poked up. Only one person spoke like that.  Her heart races. If it isn’t him, she would kill the imposter. She glides like a shadow towards 

the dumpster. 

      “Clint, is it you?” her voice is quiet, loud enough to be heard in the ally, but not enough to be heard outside of it. 

“Tasha?!” a blonde man shoots up, hits his head on the dumpster- lid and looks around quickly before finding her. 

“M oya smert'” she says. He looks at her softly. He pushes himself up and out of the dumpster, missing the lid this time. He  is no less broken than normal. Cuts litter his face as if got into an actual catfight- and lost. Hard to believe, this is Her Death. The only thing she will allow herself to die at. “ So Is the Op compromised?” 

“Yes.” he runs his hand through his hair.  He is exhausted. She looks at him.

“Then we are leaving. He says nothing. She quietly motions for him to take her to his temporary headquarters and he moves to take her to an old brothel-motel. 

“Classy moya smert.” he smiles apologetically. 

“We can’t all have nice things” she laughs. The reason he’s not allowed nice accommodations is that the last time he was here he nearly destroyed the whole city… hunting her.  It was both the most terrifying time and the most fun she had since leaving the red room. 

Back when it was just herself and her own desires. Before what would now be the good old days of Strike team Δ. She missed Coulson. Missed having a trustworthy handler. Missed having clint as a constant. She rationally knew that she was not meant to let clint wrap himself up in her dry heart with its slow beats. That she shouldn't have let him blossom in her. But hindsight is twenty-twenty. He’s blossomed in her Lungs and to remove him would be a death sentence.

* * *

        Thor Odinson; God of thunder, fertility, and common men;  Heir apparent to the Asgardian throne; defender of Midgard  looked over the women that allowed them to grace their beds.  Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. They were brilliant Midgardians. Jane had role as a Lady Scholar, A title she coveted more than the dragons of old  guarded treasure. Darcy on the other hand, his shield sister, was a lot like the men Thor had fought with in ages past. She was a warrior and a diplomat. And she guarded them fiercer than Jane guarded her title and fiercer than Thor loves Loki. He pitied who’d try to harm them, jane and himself that is. Darcy would rip them to shreds physically and politically. Then Jane would use the leftovers for experiments.  

       It was something out of the novels Loki and Sif would indulge when they thought that he or the Warriors three didn’t pay attention. A Prince, A Scholar, and A Warrior all in Love, the three woven tighter than fate… or so he hoped. The thought of introducing the Warrior and the Scholar as His Consorts gave him shivers pleasant shivers. His future Queens, Mortal they be would fucking bring the realms to heal… and heel. Darcy shifts toward him. His fantasies of a future momentarily ruined. Bringing his attention to his beloved's. His goddesses. Freja and Skadi incarnate. He couldn’t do anything now with his brother acting a tit. His To Do List consisted of 

-getting Loki to a semi-conscious and cohesive state to remind him of his duty to Thor regardless of both the mental break nor the fact that Loki was Jotunn. He could deal with the fact Loki was a frost giant it wasn't a big deal. It made him more valuable.

\- getting his loves immortality, He couldn’t rule an empire without his better halves after all. How was he supposed to put things it right if Darcy didn’t remind him morality. If Jane didn’t remind him he was nothing to the universe? He’d become what Laufey became. While he was willing to be a tyrant there was limits to the vulgarity of it.

\- Keeping Midgard from tearing itself apart, at the rate it was going at it would mirror Muspelheim currently.and that wouldn’t do, after all he was proclaimed protector of Midgard, and while still a prince, he still had to take of his things. 

Nonetheless his to do list was pretty heavy. Thor laid back against the headboard and waited to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dumbass hydra gent: saying the trigger words for a Reset  
> Bucky translates for us


	4. solider IV/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve deals with night terrors  
> soldier makes his way to sovkia,   
> steve is like a teen, but like also a super soldier with a metabolism that matches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> traslations in the notes  
>  the 19 is my bday so my gift to yall

 

**_BOOM._ **

_      Bombs are dropping left and right. Where is he? He looks down at himself. He’s wearing the old uniform. Its bright colors make him a good target. He’s in Italy? England. He looks at the trees; the spread of them makes it France.  _

**_Ratatatatatatata_ ** _ the machine gun roars. It's a familiar sound, one that means he’s in trouble. They aren’t shooting at him. They  _ **aren’t shooting at him** .

**_BOOM._ **

_     Explosions wracked the forest. He’s so scared. When is he? Was it all a dream? They were still at war. That meant…? _

****_    " STEVE! RUN YOU FUCKIN’ IDIOT.” _

_     “BUCKY? WHERE ARE YOU?” He heard nothing. “BUCKY!?” he screamed out.  He needed to find Bucky, needed to find him now. He turned around. All behind him was ice….  _ No. No. Please.  _ Bucky was behind him, his arm missing, and blood was flowing out like a waterfall. Steve whimpered. He was wearing the blue peacoat… but on his face? On his face was the fucking muzzle. The muzzle that made him the Winter Soldier. He stood there in shock. Bucky’s skin had a tinge of blue to it, like he was frozen. That’s when his eyes opened. Recognition was there, but in a negative way, like Steve was prey. Then, Bucky started to speak. _

_      “You're right, Steve, it is your fault. “ Bucky states as if discussing the weather, and not Steve’s thoughts. He looks at him, dead eyed. “If not for you, Steve, I coulda lived a long, happy life.” He hasn’t moved. His voice sounds like he hasn’t used it in years; just like on the bridge. “You damned me Steve, me and everyone I’ve had to kill. You called me your sun and moon. I should’ve realized that meant you were going to devour me…” - _

                                                                                                    NEW YORK CITY; 3:00 A.M.

     He wakes up screaming. His throat is raw. He’s got tears flying down his face. He needs to vomit. He tries to get up and trips. He shoots up again, making it this time. The bathroom door is open. The acid is coming up his throat. He makes it to the sink. He vomits. Last night's dinner is in the sink, he’s dry heaving now. He was so tired. He looked at the time. Three o’clock…. Six hours. ‘ _ Somebody give me a gold star,’ _ he thought. He was still tired, but he wasn’t going to sleep. He looked around the apartment from the bathroom. It wasn’t spartan by any means; it was just neat. Military neat. There was some decor, courtesy of Tony Stark. A few overtop the top Patriotism references. It was nice, nicer than what he was used to. A lot of stuff in the future is nicer than what Steve is used to. He looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look too bad. No dark circles. No red eyes. There’s still tear tracks and vomit around his mouth. He’s got a bit of stubble going on. 

      He moves closer to the sink and turns the tap hoping all the vomit goes down the drain. It does, thankfully. He washes his face, brushes his teeth. He moves out, taking off his shirt and throwing it toward the hamper, not noticing when it makes it in, and sits on the couch. 

        He’s looking at his hands. Just looking. He knew they were bloodstained. Everyone liked to act like Steve’s hands were the cleanest out of the avengers, out of the Howlies. Like he was just a good ol’  _ aw-shucks, ma’am _ gentleman. People didn’t like to acknowledge that he wasn’t as pure as a lamb. That if he and their teammates just sat, and let all the blood they’ve spilt spill out of their hands, Steve would have come in second place. He had spilt more than Banner, or the Hulk, for sure. More than Barton. More than Nat. More than Stark. The only one with more would be Thor... But that’s only because Thor was a god. One of the old gods, one that demands blood and bone to be appeased, not one that asked for flowers and the kindness of their worshippers. Even then, he’d give Thor a run for his money. That’s how much blood Steve had on his hands; enough to run all the rivers in Egypt red. 

       He sighed. None of that would scrub the red from his hands. Nothing would bring back those he killed in the war who were innocent; it wouldn’t bring back the victims of the Chitauri attack. It wouldn’t bring those who died in the S.H.I.E.L.D.yra reveal. Wouldn’t bring back the “collateral” on S.H.I.E.L.D.  sanctioned missions. He looked away from his hands. He needed something to do. Something besides break. He looked at the blank sketchbooks that lined the bookshelf, one row. He could draw. Yeah…. That would only lead him to drawing war memories. Memories he wanted hidden in an attic, never to be reexamined ever again. He thought about Brooklyn. It seemed to be just as a good of a ghost as Bucky had been. It crooned to him in the wind, begging for her favorite little shit to come home. Unfortunately, Bucky haunted Brooklyn too. He haunted it like cigarette smoke haunted a smoker.  

 

                                                                                     VERONA, ITALY FOUR WEEKS LATER AT 0800 HOURS

          They looked at the agent dead eyed. The gun is still pointed at her face, hands unwavering as they allowed her the choice of life or death at their hands. The agent is shivering in a mix of fear and angry defiance. It was the sixth agent in a month. No one apparently knew how to fix an arm for them. This was exhausting; if this one couldn’t fix it, then they’d send the thing to Howard’s Boy… Tony…  or possibly Wakanda? They looked at the agent, who was a female. 5’5, not particularly attractive, Canadian, but lived in France. Apparently, she specialized in prosthetics… Apparently. He’d believe it _ if  _ she could fix the scrap formerly attached to his nervous system. The chances were, unfortunately, slim; then he’d have to rewrite his itinerary … again.

       “Pouvez-vous le réparer ou non?” they asked, not without kindness in their voice

       "Pourquoi ne pas pousser ton arme dans ton cul?"” she spat out. They sighed. Seriously, what did Hydra offer the scientists it employed to make them this loyal? Was it fear? Was it funding? ... There was a good chance it was funding. Zima was confused; why would funding matter? Bucky explained how funding was hard to get. Zima didn’t care about funding, it cared to be at maximum efficiency.  Perhaps it was family, Bucky pointed out, as well. Barnes would burn the world to ash for family.

       “Considérez ceci, je vous épargne votre vie et votre dignité si vous faites cela.” 

      Faites-le vous-même, sacrément excuse d'arme inutile” the agent replied. 

      “D'accord, vous êtes libre d'aller.” The agent was shocked; she wasn’t expecting for her captor to free her. The gun was down. They started to untie the agent; she looked at them, moving to the knife hidden in her boot. They shot the agent first, right in the throat. A miss; Zima mentally sighed. At least it’ll be quick... For the agent. 

        As they left the quickly cooling body of the agent, they put their remaining arm up to their forehead, then slowly dragged it down out of frustration. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t two main option for repairs, but he frankly was not ready to make first contact with Tony stark, mostly  because frankly while a marvel of technology it just didn’t make up for both murdering one’s parents and B. 90 presents for both 45 years of missing birthday and christmas. He mentally though it over, that there was one other person that could have  _ any _ information on the arm, but they were resistant to that idea. Baron Von strucker was a man much more dangerous low level agent. Strucker might be able to take them back in they steadies themself and looks for the Stark pad they stole from the dead agent in Verona. It was around four days to sovokia. The first train they needed left in three hours. Plenty of time to download the newest stark papers and math theories, but first a plum.   


      Steve listened as Director Fury droned on about how about tactics and strategies for the Avengers  when his phone vibrates. Its tony and if he doesn’t answer than Tony will bother him until he does. He opens the text.  

 

What u doin?

       He texts as quickly as possible attempting to hide the fact as if he was passing notes in class

 

                                                                                                            Ina brief w/ director fury

Y?

                                                                                                               Bcuase it my job??? & none of u show up evr

Point taken see u l8r capt

                                                                                                              R u coming to brief also?

no brief in a shareholders meeting  

                                                                                                                K bye  ...

 

             “Anything you wish to add Captain.” he looked at the Director. He shook his head. He was tired and hungry. Well he was always hungry. The amount of food needed to keep him going was ridiculous,  After the nightmares and vomiting last night he hadn’t eaten and it was catching up to him.

       “Director, I uh have nothing to add.” the director looked at him. His stomach growled. He had to eat or it was going to get nasty. He shuddered. The winter of 1944 was something the Howlies and Phillips would never speak of. They had taken it to the grave, even Peggy in her state hadn’t mentioned it. Steve left the meeting. He moved to the community kitchen. He opened the box he kept. it being filled several high calorie snacks, his favorite being the homemade candy-esque thing being the kids called Reese's. They were really good and being no longer allergic to peanut butter, was swell. HE had tried the actual Reese and they tasted even better. But Steve couldn’t survive off Reese's. He was barely going off of the here and there snacks. He needed to eat, but couldn’t eat Sweets all, nor could he eat as often as he should. And that was when he could keep it down.God he thought how fucked was he? Enough apparently that he probably wasn’t getting enough nutrients or whatever, but eating was hard.  Everything tasted,,, off. So between horrific nightmare, not enough calories and the wrongness of food Steve was not having good food time. He looks at the box and checks around... he eats the entire box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Pouvez-vous le réparer ou non-  
> "Can you fix it or not  
> "Pourquoi ne pas pousser ton arme dans ton cul?" "Why not push your weapon into your ass?" like shove it up yours   
> “Considérez ceci, je vous épargne votre vie et votre dignité si vous faites cela.” - Consider this, I save your life and your dignity if you do that."  
> Faites-le vous-même, sacrément excuse d'arme inutile


	5. im sorry welcome to suffering I revamping this

REVAMP , everything but the Drabbles and a man of mortal worth is being revamped


End file.
